Dust to Dust
by alanabloom
Summary: Fulfilling two Tumblr prompts for Will/Alana: "something involving a funeral" and "Will comforts Alana". Set sometime between 1x09 and 1x11.


**A/N:** _Fulfilling two prompts I got on Tumblr for "something involving a funeral" and "Will comforts Alana". Also includes mentions of the Alana backstory I established in "Bloom's Mortal Enemy", but that isn't required reading, as it explains everything here._

Dust to Dust

Students are just beginning to file into his classroom for a lecture when Will's cell phone rings.

He paces back to his desk to grab it, noting the words** Alana Bloom calling** flashing across the screen, provoking a confusing twist of pleasure and anxiety.

By the time he grabs the phone, though, the call drops, turning to a **1 Missed Call **alert instead. Will frowns, confused; the phone couldn't have rang more than once before Alana had hung up.

His finger hovers over the screen, momentarily debating calling her back. But he quickly talks himself out of it, worried it was maybe an accidental dial. Besides, the classroom is filling up.

Will tries to put the phone call out of his mind and teach.

An hour later, he's gathering his files as the cadets make their way out of the lecture hall, when he hears, "Graham?"

Todd Campbell, head of the Academics department at the Academy, is making his way toward him. "You free right now?"

Glancing up at his boss, Will cautiously replies, "Yes…."

"Think you could cover Dr. Bloom's 3:00 lecture?"

There's a distant, dim sort of worry fluttering in Will's chest. Without giving an answer, he asks, "Why? Where is she?"

"Her father passed away this morning. I think she's trying to make arrangements to get home." Campbell takes about three seconds to make a dutifully sympathetic face before repeating, "So can you cover her class?"

"No." The word just slips out; Will doesn't even stop to think about it. He's already in motion, shoving the last of his notes into his bag. "No, sorry, I have to be somewhere."

"You just said you were free." Will's on his way out. "Graham!"

He can't explain it, his need to get to Alana. She has never mentioned her father; Will has no idea how close they were, but all he can think about is that phone call. He can deconstruct it like a crime scene, and though she'd obviously changed her mind almost immediately, some instinct had driven Alana to call him.

So he ends up standing on her front porch in the middle of the afternoon, knocking insistently.

The door swings open. Alana's eyes are red, but her face is stony and controlled…for about two seconds. Then, she registers his presence, and something immediately crumbles behind her eyes, her face pinching in on itself. "Will…"

"I, um…" He holds up his cell phone. "I missed a call from you."

The corner of her lips quirks up the slightest fraction, but the smile's trembling. "So you just…came over?"

"Yeah, well, you know…" He shrugs awkwardly. "Phone tag can be annoying." Will falls quiet, lifting his eyes to hers. "I'm so sorry, Alana."

A short, harsh sob jerks breaks free from her chest, and just like that Will moves forward and wraps his arms around her. Alana wilts as soon as he touches her, burying her face in his shoulder.

Will holds her with one hand on her head, stroking her hair, his cheek against her forehead. She's quiet; Will wouldn't know she was crying if he couldn't feel her body shuddering or the warm, wet tears dripping against his skin.

Instinctual, useless platitudes knot up in his throat, but Will thinks of the way she'd hugged him last week, after he'd admitted to feeling unstable. She hadn't said a word, just wrapped him up, and it had felt like she was holding him together, firmly keeping all his broken pieces in tact.

His arms tightening around Alana, Will hopes it feels at least a little like that for her.

Eventually, she reluctantly unfolds herself from his chest and straightens up, mumbling thickly, "I gotta go."

"Can I give you a ride to the airport?" He frowns, flustered and suddenly acutely bothered by how little he knows about her family, or even where she's from. "I mean…where are you going? Do you have to fly?"

"Yeah, I'm…meeting my brother at the airport in DC, we're flying into Massachusetts." She runs a hand through her hair, eyes going slightly unfocused, suddenly overwhelmed.

"Let me take you to the airport."

"You really don't have to-"

"Please." Will gives her a beseeching look. "Let me do something for you."

Slowly she nods, and gives him about an eighth of a smile, eyes glittering with gratitude. "Okay. Thanks. But we gotta go now."

"No problem."

"I'll get my bag."

~(W*A)~

It takes an hour to get to the airport. It's a silent ride; Will keeps the radio off and cast frequent glances at Alana out of the corner of his eye.

There's a strange sort of panic knotting up his stomach. He isn't used to this; he has only ever seen Alana radiating quiet, steady strength. She is always the one checking on _him_, asking how _he_ is.

But suddenly Alana is the one hurting, and there isn't anything Will can do to fix it.

At the airport, he pulls up to the curb and throws the car into park.

Alana doesn't make any move to get out of the car. Will watches her for a moment, uncertain of what to say.

After awhile, he says slowly, "So…your brother's here?"

"Yeah, he should be." She closes her eyes. "_Fuck."_

_"_What?"

"Just…this whole thing is gonna be horrible." She laughs once, short and harsh. "I mean, horrible even by funeral standards." Her face tightens, and Will reaches over to grab her hand. After a moment, Alana continues, "My brothers…they, uh. Don't like our dad. I mean, they really _hate _him. They haven't seen him in years. And he _did_ do a kind of horrible thing, so…so they're not gonna care, and they're not gonna think _I_should care but…"

She lifts her face to look at Will, her face falling open into a look of anguish that guts him. "They were all in college when my mom died. But I was thirteen, so Dad came back and I lived with him and…I _tried_, you know? I tried to stay mad, but…five years is a long time to hate the only family who's around."

Will squeezes her hand, thinking again of how little he knows about her, and how much he wants to, and then says softly, "Don't let them tell you not to care."

Alana holds on for a moment before gently extracting her hand from his. In a quick, purposeful motion, she pulls down the mirror above the passenger seat, rubbing at her eyes for a few seconds before flipping it closed again. "I gotta go."

Will's chest hurts, and he finds himself wishing things were different between them, that they were more than friends. Not a new wish, by any means, but the reasoning has changed.

He doesn't want to be the friend dropping her off at the airport. He wants to be the guy holding her hand on the plane, with his arm around her at the funeral. He doesn't want to send her off to deal with this on her own.

But he doesn't have a choice.

"I'm sorry, again," Will tells her quietly. "If you, um, need anything…" He shakes his head a little, his throat locking around the words _call me_, as Will remembers that she already called him once, but had instantly thought better of it.

Alana knows him as broken and unstable. He is not a source of strength for her; not like she's been for him.

Even now, she looks over at Will as she unbuckles her seatbelt, her eyes softening. "I'll see you in about a week. Take care of yourself, okay?" Like some part of her still manages to worry about him.

He forces a smile. "You, too."

"Thanks for the ride, Will."

She opens the car door and is halfway out before he blurts, "Alana?" She looks back. "How…how come you called me?"

For a second, Alana just looks at him, seeming surprised by the question. "I don't know. I just…I got that phone call, and the only other thing I wanted to hear was your voice." Before he can begin to process that, she gives him a tiny smile, says, "Bye, Will," and closes the door.

~(W*A)~

For the next two days, Will's can't get his mind off Alana. She's showing up in his nightmares, always hurt or crying and out of his reach. He's distracted in sessions with Hannibal, and one night he finds himself googling obituaries in Massachusetts.

He has to drive most of the night, already dressed in his suit, to make it to the funeral on time.

Will slips into one of the back rows, on the opposite side of Alana, sitting in the front family pew with three men who must be her brothers; two of them have wives with them, and there are a couple of young kids among the group.

Will leans forward, rests his arms on the pew in front of him, and locks his eyes on the back of Alana's head.

He doesn't listen to most of the funeral, which is brief and generic. Will just watches her, as though he'll be able to detect a moment she starts to break, as though he'll be able to sweep in to hold her together.

When it's over, the family lines up outside the chapel, the mourners moving down the line to offer condolences. It moves slowly enough for Will to continually question his own presence, and he nearly bolts five times.

He's four people away from Alana in line, murmuring an _I'm sorry for your loss_ to one of her aunts when he hears, "_Will_?"

Everyone in line turns to look at Alana, and then immediately follows her gaze to Will.

After a beat, the few people ahead of Will in line shuffle awkwardly forward, and he walks right past her brothers to stand in front of her.

A strange sort of awe leeches through the exhaustion and grief clouding her eyes. "I…can't believe you came."

"Is…is that okay?"

She curls her lips together and nods, hard. in the next second, her arms wind around his neck, and Will holds on so tight that for a moment he lifts her off the ground.

They hold on for a long time. When Alana eventually loosens her hold on him and pulls away, her brothers are staring.

"Uh, Al?" The one on her right, the tallest one, gives her a questioning look.

"Sorry, um. This is Will." There's instant recognition on the other men's faces. Alana glances from Will to her family, indicating the one who spoke. "This is Aaron." She points to the two on her other side, the ones with wives. "That's Max, and Ben."

"Hi," Will murmurs awkwardly, eyes skimming them. He shakes Aaron's offered hand. "Sorry for your loss."

Aaron makes a combative sort of face at that, but Alana gives him a look and he shuts up.

"You're kinda holding up the line, Al," Max points out with a slight smirk.

"Sorry," Will says automatically, lowering his eyes and starting to move forward.

Alana's hand closes around his wrist, eyes widening with the barest hint of panic. "The wake's at the house, a neighbor's setting it up now. You'll go there, right?"

"Sure, yeah-"

"Don't leave."

He catches the edge of a plea in her voice, and Will makes himself meet her eyes. "I won't," he promises gently. "See you soon."

Relief breaks across Alana's face.

~(W*A)~

Wakes are strange. There's an odd atmosphere of family reunion, an opportunity for catch up, but muted and hushed by protocol. Will stands in a corner of the living room of the small, single story home and watches the others. He doesn't catch a lot of deep mourning.

Alana searches for him the second she and her family return to the house, that same wave of relief sweeping over her features. But someone approaches her almost immediately, and before Will knows it forty-five minutes have passed and she hasn't been able to get to him.

After awhile, a commotion stirs up from across the living room, and he glances over at the same time as everyone else to see Alana arguing with two of her brothers.

"…_stop_ saying that!"

"Well, it _wasn't_ a loss, Al!" Aaron shoots back heatedly. "I'm sick of acting like it was-"

"It wouldn't kill you to just keep your feelings to yourself for a _few days_, Aaron. He's _dead_, it's over, you're clearly happy about that-"

"I never said that!"

"No, you just roll your eyes anytime someone suggests it's _sad_."

"I'm not going to pretend to feel something I don't."

"Neither am I!"

"I just don't understand how you can just forget what he did! He just _left_, he left _you _alone with Mom the way she was-"

"So did you," she retorts, and Aaron's eyes go wide.

Beside them, Ben tries placatingly, "Alana, he didn't mean-"

"Oh, suddenly _you_ want to talk to me?"

Will walks toward them out of pure instinct, placing a tentative hand on Alana's arm. "You okay?"

She turns to look at him, anger draining rapidly from her face, replaced by raw, open need. "Did you drive here?"

"Yes…"

"Let's go." She tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow and pivots Will. Everyone else in the living room is silent and still, watching them stride the length of the living room and walk out the front door.

~(W*A)~

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," Alana mutters, flustered. "I'm sorry about that…"

"It's fine," he assures her firmly.

"Could you just drive, maybe?"

Will nods and cranks the car.

They're quiet at first, but after he's circled random blocks for about fifteen minutes, Alana starts directing him, until she finally tells him to pull into a parking lot next to a church playground.

It's Saturday, and empty. Alana gets out of the car, and Will confusedly does the same, following her the edge of a creaky wooden merry go round.

They sit down on the edge, feet planted firmly in the dirt, keeping it still. Will waits for a moment, expecting an explanation. When none comes, he asks hesitantly, "Did you…go to church here?"

"No. Just borrowed the swing set." She points in the direction behind them. "Our old house was down that street. This was the only playground in walking distance."

"Did your dad bring you here?"

"No. Aaron did." She smiles a little, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Dad left. When I was eight. Right after Jamie - my oldest brother - died, and my mom started getting sick."

"What kind of sick?"

She glances at him, voice almost apologetic. "Bipolar and depressive with delusional episodes, sort of sick."

Will thinks of Alana's voice a few weeks ago - _I think you're unstable_ - and the look on her face when she'd realized he was hallucinating. His stomach turns.

"Anyway. Dad had been great, before. He worked a lot, but nothing crazy. But he just…ditched us. Couldn't handle everything, I guess. But after my mom died, and the guys were already in college…Aaron tracked him down. It was either that or drop out of college and take custody…or put me in the system, I guess." Will doesn't say anything, just watches her and waits. "And the thing is…Dad was fine. If he'd _acted_ like an uncaring asshole it would have been easier to remember he was one, but he didn't. He was just my _dad_again. Like nothing had changed."

"I'm sorry," Will says, feeling the lameness of it, how many times she's heard that phrase in the last few days.

But Alana looks up at him and says, "I'm really glad you're here."

She sounds so sincere he can't help but be honest. "I wanted to come with you from the second I dropped you off."

Smiling a little, Alana confesses, "I wanted you to, too."

Tentatively, Will takes her hand. She squeezes once in thanks.

"Can I ask you something?" Will says after awhile.

"Sure."

"Why did you hang up?" Alana looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed. "You called me, the day it happened…but you hung up after one ring."

"Oh." Her eyes soften. "I just…didn't want to put that on you, you know? You've got enough to deal with, and I…after what had just happened, me walking away, I didn't think I had any right to come crying to you."

"I _want_ you to come crying to me," Will tells her, then hastily adds, "Well, I don't _want_ you to be crying, but you know what I mean." He frowns a little, turning his words over carefully in his head before speaking. "Alana, you make me feel better just by being there. And if you ever need it, I'd like to return the favor."

Alana's eyes fill up, and she leans against him again, taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together, and whispering, "Thank you."

The merry go round creaks slightly as Will shifts so he can wrap an arm around her shoulder. Immediately, Alana folds against him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He makes himself strong, at least for awhile, so for once, Alana doesn't have to be.


End file.
